I grew up in a football home. My dad coached little-league and all my brothers played. I was a cheerleader on the sidelines for all their games. I was not very good. I was the football girl. You know, the one who actually understood the game and had an opinion about what was going on. This was quite the shock to many guys around my school.
My alma mater is the University of Utah. I considered a few other universities when my time came for college but our house bled crimson. As a student, I took full advantage of sitting in the Mighty Utah Student Section, or MUSS. It was crazy times back then. I went all four years of my college life, plus the grace year after you graduate they let you have. Or at least they used to.
Nowadays, I don’t get to go to the games much. Season tickets are too expensive, but my brother has them and sometimes when he doesn’t go, I’ll get my chance to take my husband and off we go.
I’m hesitant to share this story. Mostly because I think it makes me seem like a hoe. But as I explained in my last post, I’m no hoe. But I do tend to have exhibitionist tendencies. There’s so much that I’d like to do. I want to go to a nude beach. I want to reveal myself in public. I want to be stared at and desired by strangers. I run a NSFW blog on Tumblr. It’s a chance for me to express myself in a different way.
My husband is more reluctant than I am. He had a very conservative upbringing and still struggles with sex-positive thinking from time to time. So I try and get him to come out of his shell. This summer I got him to streak down the sidewalk of our neighborhood. It was a major step forward and it was super sexy. Yes, a running naked man isn’t usually very sexy, there’s a lot flapping around. If you stand too close you’ll need eye protection. Of course, when I did it it wasn’t much better. I have to hold my boobs in place or they’ll bounce too wildly and hurt. #bigboobproblems.
We got the chance to go and see the Utah vs Arizona home game this past weekend. I was planning on wearing a short skirt and perhaps a tube top with no bra as part of a naughty evening out. But it turned out to be way too cold. In Utah, we went from the blazing surface of the sun to the freezing wastes of Antartica in 2 weeks. But I compromised.
It’s big boot weather! I wore my boots and warm leggings. What everyone around me did not know was that under my coat was still a tube top with no bra and under my leggings was only me. Wearing underwear makes little difference in how warm you are. Especially the underwear we LDS folks wear.
My husband and I made a wager. You see, my husband loves football as much as I do and he’s as die-hard a fan as I am. But he’s a pessimist. He always underestimates the home team. I think it’s a defense mechanism to stop himself from being too mad if they lose. I’m an eternal optimist and think the team will always win. If there are 2 minutes left in the 4th and we’re down by 28 and it’s 4th and 30 . . . we’ve still got a chance! So our wager wasn’t if Utah would win but rather by how much they would win. He said that it would be close. I said it would be a blowout. If it was a blowout he’d wear this wonderful little man-thong I bought for him years ago through the drive-thru of a restaurant on the way home. And ONLY the man-thong. If it was a nail biter, then I’d drive us through the drive-thru in this ridiculous bikini top he bought for me that barely covered my nipples. It certainly left about 70% of my areolas exposed.
Now you’re looking up the score of the game, aren’t you? Yes. It was a blowout, much to my joy and my husband’s chagrin. It was too cold and too late that night to go about our bet, but there was the next day.
We both love a particular fast food restaurant that specializes in hamburgers. They finally opened one close to our house and we go there far more often than we should. This would be our target. We would go for a late night burger run. My husband came out into the garage looking absolutely miserable. The man-thong was made out of this wonderfully silky material and you could basically see everything. Every ripple, the shape of his head, everything. I was drooling. It was still freezing cold, but my husband’s truck would be warm. Which is good because his member was looking like a frightened tortoise.
His truck was high enough off the ground that no worker would actually be able to see into the truck to notice what was going on. They’d just see a dumbass with no shirt on driving his truck in the freezing cold. Actually, not an uncommon sight in our part of Utah. But it was great to watch my husband squirm. He was nervous and that’s the point. That nervousness drives your passions wild. It electrifies everything. People who have sex in public find it exhilarating if for no other reason than they think that they might get caught.
We drove to the place in the dark. I reached out and stroked his bare leg. Encouraging him. I wanted him to explore. Occasionally I’d brush my fingertips over his penis. Of course, he responded emphatically and by the time we arrived at the drive-thru he was standing at full attention. But as soon as he placed our order, it instantly shriveled up again in fear. It was time for my secret weapon. I took off my coat to reveal that I had also followed through with my end of the bet. It truly was a ridiculous bikini top. It covered nothing and was horrendously uncomfortable. My nipples stood erect in the cold making the covering of the top even more useless. The skin of my areolas was wrinkled and hard. I was wet between my legs. My husband looked shocked but he had to pull through to the next window.
Just as I anticipated, the late night drive through attendant couldn’t see anything on my husband and didn’t even notice I was there. He missed a heck of a show. We got our food and pulled away just several more feet into the target parking lot. It was mostly empty, the last Saturday shoppers had long gone home. I reached over and pulled my husband out of that tiny man thong. He was instantly hard again. I leaned over and went down on him in the parking lot. It wasn’t our first time doing this, it was just the first time doing it so scantily clad with hamburgers in the car. It was only a few minutes before he exploded in my mouth. It was warm and thick and salty. But man was it such a load! I had to struggle to keep swallowing so as to not make a mess. I got it all down. I really do enjoy that. You get used to the taste and it’s surprisingly good for you.
The load he shot was bigger than usual because of the excitement of the exposure. The new experience of it all drove him wild. AND me. So, I continue to walk him down the path by baby steps until one day I can really fulfill my fantasies with him by my side. Which is what marriage is all about.
You and your husband should come to the tailgates! It’s a great atmosphere, even if you can’t go to the game.
That’s a wonderful suggestion! It gets my mind running with all the possibilities.